Моя любов
by Marvelgeek42
Summary: Nothing had ever made Viktor Krum more happy than the time when Hermione Granger had accepted his invitation to the Yule Ball. Consequently he did his best to give her the best evening possible in return; it was only fair. And, based on her face late into that night—they were some of the last ones to leave—it might just have worked.


**For** ** _fanfictionfan1990_** **, I hope you like it!**

 **This ran away from me.**

 **Word Count: 1,429**

* * *

 ** _Моя любов_**

* * *

Nothing had ever made Viktor Krum more happy than the time when Hermione Granger had accepted his invitation to the Yule Ball. Consequently he did his best to give her the best evening possible in return; it was only fair.

And, based on her face late into that night—they were some of the last ones to leave—it might just have worked.

That alone made all the time he had spent working up the courage to ask her out and improving his English to a point he could hold a conversation.

"Will I see you again?" he asked hesitantly.

She smiled at him. Her smile was the most beautiful one he had ever seen. "Every day if you want."

"I would like that very much, моя любов."

Hermione frowned. "Moalye lebuvov?" she did her best to repeat his words, but her accent was undeniable. "What does that mean?"

Viktor took a deep breath and replied, "It means 'my love'."

He was pleased to see her blush ever so slightly.

* * *

"You know, I'm not actually fourteen," she said one evening in the library.

Viktor always enjoyed these dates. They would recommend books to each other, help each other with both their studies and each other's language.

Her statement had come totally unexpected. "What?"

"I'm not fourteen. I heard one of the boys from your school making a comment to his friend. At least I'm pretty sure I did…."

He would need to figure out who that had been and teach him a small lesson. But in the meantime he had to soothe his girlfriend. That boy would not run away and her feelings were more important. "Моя любов, that does not matter-"

"But I am not fourteen. For one I have this birthday cutoff thing, so I always was a year older than everyone else in my year. For another…" she trailed off.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone?" She looked up at him, nervously biting her lip.

"Of course I will not," he answered as he checked if anyone was listening into their conversation.

"You can shorten that to 'won't'," Hermione corrected, before shaking her head. "Last year I had a time turner to manage all the courses I was taking. I lived most hours two or three times for a good majority of a year. Technically, I'm almost seventeen already." She absently played with a strand of her hair as she confessed this.

"I knew that you could not be much younger than me."

* * *

"I am sorry that I have to compete against your friend," he apologized on the evening before the third task. "You shouldn't have to chose."

Hermione leaned into Viktor. "I don't care who wins. I just need both of you to survive. Then I will be as happy as I could possibly be."

Viktor looked into her eyes. They were filled with anxious worry. "That is just another reason why I will do my best, Моя любов, and I'm sure Harry will too."

"I should hope so," she replied, giving him a weak smile. "I won't stop worrying until you're both safe in my arms again, though."

"I can't wait for that." Viktor smiled as he pulled her closer to himself for another kiss.

"I love you, Моя любов," Hermione said once they ran out of air. Her pronunciation had become almost perfect due to the constant use of the words.

* * *

"You will write me, right?" Because his entire world would fall apart if she did not.

"Of course, silly." Then, she looked up, grinning conspicuously. " I bet my father would love to watch a game of yours. He read Quidditch Through The Ages at least fifteen times last summer after I got it for his birthday."

"That should be possible," he assured her.

Viktor pulled her close to himself and gave her one final kiss.

"I already can't wait, Моя любов."

* * *

 _Dear Viktor,_

 _my friends and I are planning something for the latter part of the summer. Would it be possible to see a game before the month ends?_

 _Love,_

 _Hermione_

* * *

 _Dearest Hermione,_

 _I got you three tickets. Write me if you want to bring anyone else along and I will do my best to find a close seat._

 _I can't wait until I see you again, Моя любов_

 _Viktor_

* * *

Hermione had never enjoyed a Quidditch Game quite as much as this one.

Of course she was worried by her boyfriends' stunts high up in the air, but Viktor seemed to be having the time of his life.

"Young love," her mother commented, observing her daughter's cheering. Viktor had caught the snitch and his team had won.

"Why else would our Hermione possibly cheer at a sport event?" Her father chuckled. "At least I will get the chance to teach my grandchildren football."

"Dad!"

* * *

Hermione never stopped writing to Viktor and Viktor never stopped writing to Hermione.

They met in every holiday and—if possible—on Hogsmeade weekends.

* * *

"Do you think it would be possible to invite Viktor along?" Hermione asked her best friends the day before the wedding of Bill and Fleur.

"I don't see why not," Ron said. "At least he finished his education. That might be useful."

Harry nodded in agreement. "The more we are, the higher is our chance."

"I don't see why Ginny and Luna can't join too. Or Neville," Hermione added.

"Because Mom would skin me, reanimate me and then skin me again," Ron deadpanned. "I'd be happy to have Luna along, believe me."

"And Neville's closer to them then he's to us," Harry pointed out.

* * *

Their Horcrux Hunt was pretty eventful.

One time, Ron almost left, but he saw reason in the last possible second.

Then they were caught and brought to Malfoy Manor. They broke out with the help of Viktor's new favorite house elf.

The elf had been too close to dying. If the knife thrown by his least favorite person—Bellatrix Lestrange—hadn't scratched Viktor first, it would have hit Dobby's heart.

* * *

They fought in Hogwarts and they won. Viktor called his mates from Durmstrang and Fleur informed her French friends.

Their side still lost many people, but it could have been infinitely worse.

Of course that did not make it any easier for the grieving families—the Weasleys, Abbotts and the Chang family had all lost children—but had to be worth something.

Remus Lupin lost a good part of his right arm and seemed weirdly happy about it.

"This way he has less of a chance of accidentally hurting someone—like our son, Teddy—on full moon," the man's wife explained. "He's a werewolf, you see." The metamorph looked him into the eyes, daring him to say something offensive.

"Do you have pictures of your son?"

Tonks blinked twice then she grinned. "You're a good man."

"I've been dating Hermione for almost three years now. Do you think we would still be together if I would say something prejudiced?"

"Good point," Tonks acknowledged as she rummaged her pockets for a picture of her son.

* * *

It was only a couple of weeks later when he bought a ring. It wasn't a fancy one, quite the opposite, in fact. It was only a simple silver band with their initials engraved in the inside.

It took him another month and a half to work up the courage to ask her.

He took her to a Muggle library—she always said she missed Muggle fiction—looked for a quiet spot and got down on one knee.

She blushed and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Hermione Jean Granger, Моя любов, I love you. Would you give me the honor of marrying you?"

"Yes, I will, Моя любов. Now get up and kiss me," she demanded as she put the ring on herself.

Viktor grinned. "It will be my pleasure," he replied as he did just that.

* * *

Their parents weren't even surprised by their announcement.

"It was only a matter of time," Hermione's mother had said.

"It is young love," his own father had commented.

"Just please, no grandchildren for at least two or three years," her father had requested.

* * *

They were wed two and a half months later. The wedding was winter themed and Viktor was half convinced someone had dug out a pensive to replicate the decorations of the Yule Ball.

Their wedding would have been a quiet affair, if the Weasleys had not been invited. Anything they were involved in could not be small, but neither of them wanted to imagine the redheaded family not being there.

Everyone they cared for was there—their blood family and friends.

It was truly perfect.

* * *

 **Please tell me what you think!**

 **~Marvelgeek42**


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